


Unwanted

by agoodtuckering



Series: My Original Works [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Boss/Employee Relationship, Business, Businessmen, Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Heartache, Horseback Riding, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Multi, Older Characters, Older Man/Younger Woman, Original Character(s), Originally Posted Elsewhere, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, train accidents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 15,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24497869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodtuckering/pseuds/agoodtuckering
Summary: An original story about trust, love, and healing. This story follows a woman by the name of Daria Kowalczyk and her longtime boss at a corporate and financial restructure firm, Jeremy O'Leary. They come to find something special in one another after a horrible train accident occurs, learning again, together, how to move forward in a cutthroat business world where their careers take a turn for the worst.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: My Original Works [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769905
Comments: 11
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an original work of mine. Planning on getting it published some day. Show me some love, guys. Please. I'm sure you can tell who the main male character was inspired by. Wink, wink. I started this story back in 2015.
> 
> This story can also be found here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/94881185-unwanted

"Daria?"

It was soft, almost questioning. As if he wasn't quite sure if she was still in the office, or out to lunch. But he was answered shortly after with a lowered, "I'm coming. Hold on a moment, please."

She wandered into the man's office with a frazzled expression, a rather large stack of papers in hand. A brow arched. "What can I do for you, Jeremy?"

He laughed. He couldn't help himself. He curled a finger at her, then asked, "Come here. What are you doing? What's that all over your hands?" His Scottish brogue was thicker than usual, evidence that he was suffering from an afternoon headache. He needed some caffeine. 

The two had been friends for over twenty years. They'd been working together for almost twenty-five. She was his secretary, and she stood beside him as he went from a junior partner to a CEO position. They'd been through hell and back together.

She plopped her stack of files and papers down, saying, "The copy machine is out of order again, and I'm sick of getting ink all over myself and my blouses trying to fix it. I'm not a repair woman, you know, if it needs reminding. Healy was even trying to get it working. Don't you think, maybe, it's time for a new one? I mean, I've only said it a billion times to Donovan. The man's just too stubborn. Until _he_ has to get the darn thing working, I don't think he'll care very much."

Jeremy O'Leary was, if nothing else, a rather practical man. He knew when to argue with a woman, and when to keep his trap shut. He pulled open his email, then sent a quick message off to Donovan. "Alright," he said. "A new copy machine. A new printer. Anything else? An espresso machine in the break room, maybe?"

Daria was practically beaming with happiness. It's funny how the little things made her do that. Made work easier. Made life easier at the office.

"Thank you," she simply said. "That'll do it."

He closed his laptop, and placed two hands atop his desk for a moment. "So," he began, "now that I have your attention, we should discuss our plans for the merger meeting. Will you be joining me for the train ride, or?"

She shrugged a shoulder, thinking over his words carefully. Then she took a seat across from him, inwardly cringing at the ache in her hip. Far too much yoga these past few weeks.

"I could go with you," she said, her mind already made up on the matter. She'd rather take the train with him than join a few of her coworkers, who all happened to be rather noisy on long car rides. Jeremy was quiet, soft-spoken, and enjoyed a good book and a light cup of coffee on long rides. He spoke only when asked questions. He avoided confrontation at all costs. He desired nothing more than peace and quiet. And for these reasons, he was a good man to work for, and an even better companion on long trips. He was Scottish (and Irish, the mutt that he was); and that meant he was constantly brooding over _something._ He was always thinking about something. Always pondering, always scheming. He was too clever for his own good.

"Yeah, I'll go with you," she said after a long pause. He merely nodded, watching as she reached for the stack of papers again and left the large, open office to head back in the direction of her cubicle. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jeremy met her at the station. His smokey-white hair was covered in snowflakes, as was his dark overcoat and the cashmere scarf that he'd wrapped loosely around a pale neck. 

Somehow, despite her overwhelming OCD, she fought the urge to fix his tie. It was askew. It was _always_ askew. She shouldn't have been surprised, though. It was just something that naturally occurred with Jeremy.

He was almost always dressed to the nines at the office. Yet, despite that, he had tiny quirks about him. For instance, his tie never was quite right but the knot was near perfect. One errant curl always did whatever it wanted. He could usually be found with a hard or softcover book in his hands during lunch, the paper cover for a hard one lying limply at his side. He never liked his eggs runny. He never ate without a glass of water to wash everything down with, but without ice cubes. He never went anywhere without a pair of earbuds in his coat pocket to keep the world hushed and at bay. He couldn't resist a good game of Trivial Pursuit, or a long walk in the rain. 

He was, in a sense, a very strange man. But not in a bad way. Quiet, sweet, but altogether hard to read. Scottish-Irish, born in Glasgow, and happy to be in America. 

He sat down beside her, a moment passing between them before he asked, "How is Josh? I noticed that you haven't spoken about him in a few days. I know you two were going through a rough patch. Are you alright?"

He sighed softly, gaze drifting her way. It never surprised her, the things that he noticed or remembered about her. He couldn't remember important meetings or dates, or clients' names, but he remember trivial things about her. Always.

"We... ended things," she said flatly.

Surprised, his brows rising, he turned to gaze her way. "You did?" He almost sounded dismayed, sad at the news. Something betwixt relief and astonishment followed, his aged brow furrowing. Which, in all honesty, was expected from the man. "I'm sorry," he added a moment or so later. It made sense now — why she'd been quieter at work, why she'd stayed home instead of attending all their Christmas parties and gatherings after hours at the office.

"He wasn't good enough for you, anyway," he said, his words accompanied by a warm smile. He patted her hand gently, then rose from his seat beside her as the train approached the station. It slowed to a stop, a gust of breeze nearly taking her scarf and sending it fluttering away.

"A new year, all new beginnings," he said to her, flashing her a handsome grin and stepping onto the train. She followed, a styrofoam cup of chai tea in hand as she walked.

"I hope so," was her only response, albeit a bit of a cynical one. She didn't believe him, but she'd agree with him all the same. Jeremy was too positive for his own good. The truth of it was that dating had become more of a chore than a pleasure for her. 

Daria was in her fifties, her body certainly wasn't perfect, and her personality wasn't shining through. Things with her and Josh had steadily been going downhill for a while. It was about time that she'd gathered enough courage and ended things with the man. She was better off without him. She knew that.

Maybe Jeremy was right. New year, new beginnings. 


	3. Chapter 3

The train ride was pleasant, mostly silent, and Daria lost herself to a plethora of to-do lists in her old leather-bound notebook.

A text message popped up on her phone shortly before the ride came to an end, reading: "Dasha, call me later. I've got some good news. Love you."

It was a text from her younger sister, Lena, and she made a note to call her later on in the day.

When they arrived in the Bronx, they wandered — _together_ — to the new soon-to-be partner's office building. There was a rather messy merger going through and this was to be the first of many meetings that would take place shortly.

No doubt it would save _Corporate Restructure, LLC_ from going under. Daria was praying it would work, otherwise she'd soon be out of a job. That was the last thing she needed. She'd been with this business for years. Long, hard years, and she wouldn't have traded them for the world.

Jeremy O'Leary, on the other hand, would have been fine, under the circumstances, if the company took a dive and went under. He was well-off and in a good position to retire. But he loved working far too much. He needed to keep himself occupied. He loved the work.

He was knowledgeable and rather fond of helping the smaller, struggling companies grow. That's what they did, after all. They snatched up all the little companies, helped them to get back up on their feet and back on the road to success. Everything from family-owned bakery businesses to computer product companies. But lately they hadn't been doing so well.

If nothing else, the first meeting was icy. Everything felt mechanical and awkward. No one said very much.

Daria met up with some close friends afterward and went out for a bite to eat at some overpriced, posh restaurant. And by god, it was amazing.

It had been a while, a few months, since she'd gone into the city. It was good to be back, despite the snow and the freezing temperatures. She didn't mind bundling up to steal away from the cold. Winter was her favorite part of the year, even in the city.

She learned, later on in the night, that her sister was engaged. Soon-to-married, in fact. _Very_ soon. They were going to get married overseas, somewhere in the Bahamas, while on a cruise. Daria couldn't be any happier for her. It was the first bit of good news she'd had in weeks.

She and her sister had all but raised themselves. Their mother passed away _too young,_ leaving them alone and troubled as seniors in high school. Thankfully, they were adopted together. They never cared to be apart for too long.

 _But marriage._ She was giddy for her sister. What wonderful news.

And later on, as she curled up in her soft, warm hotel bed and flicked the television on, she realized that she was happy with things. She was content with life. Sure, work was terrible but if nothing else, she was glad to have left Josh. She could be _herself_ again. It felt freeing. It felt good again.

She'd missed that. She'd missed being able to breathe. She wasn't drowning. Being stuck in a loveless relationship was toxic for the lungs. Toxic for the mind, the spirit, and her health.


	4. Chapter 4

Daria awoke to a rather annoying buzzing. It was insistent, never-ending. It took her all of a minute to realize it was her cell phone. She reached for the small white object on the bedside table, not even bothering to slip out from beneath the covers.

"Hello?" she said into the receiver, her voice low and raspy from sleep.

There was a crackle on the other end before a response came. "How dare you," said a male voice. "I woke up this morning to a text from a close friend in the city. Said he saw you and that O'Leary fellow together. You looked pretty chummy, he said. Are you sleeping around with your boss now?"

_Oh, fuck._

_Josh._

Inwardly, she groaned. Then she spoke up, defending herself. "What are you talking about? Josh, I'm working. I'm in the city for some _meetings._ The merger is going through," she told him, aggravation evident in her tone.

He stopped her short of continuing, obviously irritated with the way she was speaking to him. "I know the truth now," he said. "You've been sleeping with him the whole time. That's why you left me."

What the hell was he talking about? Very rarely had she ever cursed aloud but this time, it was needed. "Josh, go to hell. I'm not sleeping with my damn boss. Jeremy O'Leary is an old man. I'm not even convinced he's straight. I've never seen him with anyone. Get your head out of your ass, okay? Don't call me and accuse me of things. I broke things off with you because we weren't going anywhere, and I was miserable."

She hung up after saying what she did. And for the rest of the day — _and the rest of the week, for that matter_ — she was angry, agitated, and kept to herself. No one bothered her. Jeremy noticed. He didn't question it. He was just glad to have her at his side throughout all of this. 

But no one bothered messing with her. Aside from her sister, that was. At least they'd talked.

She was, however, sure of one thing: Josh Welch was a prick. She was just glad to be done with him. 


	5. Chapter 5

The train ride back home to Southern Connecticut was was dull. The weather was dreary and snowy. Everything was overcast and the air was bitter and chilly.

Josh certainly had some nerve, calling her and accusing her of sleeping around with her boss of all people. She was seething just thinking back on it.

It was when the train stopped at a station in between that Jeremy rose from his seat to wander her way. He took a seat again, just beside her, briefcase coming to rest on his lap. His hand patted her knee, a soft, sympathetic smile landing upon his lips.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice loud enough for Daria's ears alone. At least he was able, it seemed, to rouse her from her unhappy thoughts. She blinked a few times, gazing his way.

"He could have thought you were fooling around with worse," he said to her, teasing her gently. "I may be a confirmed bachelor, and an old man, but I'd like to think I'm not the worst thing out there. Don't you pay attention to that fool. He's just... bitter." Jeremy paused for a moment, a pair of deep blue eyes falling to his lap before drifting over to her again.

"He's bitter that he's lost the best thing that's ever going to happen to him. So keep your chin up. Ignore him. Don't answer any of his calls," Jeremy said. "He'll get the picture."

What began as a mischievous, teasing joke on Jeremy's part had turned into something rather sweet. His cheeks flushed a light, rosy shade of pink, a hand lifting his coffee to his lips for a sip.

Sniffling, she cast her gaze in her boss' direction. "Thank you," she said to him. Then she laughed. "No, you're right. You're not too bad." There was a playful expression on her features, an impish grin on her lips. She found comfort in that moment.

They were such good friends. They had been for years. He always knew the right words, the right way to comfort her, and her mood lightened.

"Our stop is coming up," he said softly. They rose from their seats, hands grasping the poles to keep their balance. "I'm just happy to finally be home," she told him, tucking her purse strap over a shoulder.

She didn't have a chance to say anything else.

All at once there was a horrendous, deafening sound — _the scraping of iron on iron, and metal as it tore apart._ It was ear-piercing.

The last thing Daria could recall was Jeremy's arm slipping around her waist from behind to draw her to him protectively. 

There was a booming explosion and the train lurched from its tracks.

The only thing to save them was the fact that they'd been in the midst of slowing down for an upcoming station. It was their only lifeline. It all happened so fast. Mere seconds, it felt like.

Each carriage veered off course, tottering right off the tracks and bumping along down the way, eventually slowing to a stop after rolling onto its side. There was smoke and fire, electrical blasts and bursts. The sight was ghastly, like a scene from a nightmarish film.

Baggage and benches were falling, people were choking on screams, on dust and smoke. It was dark, so dark. Luggage was strewn about. Lights and bulbs were popping and going out. Fire was flaring-up everywhere.

It was grim. All fell silent for a few long, terrifying seconds. 


	6. Chapter 6

There was chaos following the accident. Not that anyone knew that it _was_ an accident. Terrorism attacks happened all too often for people to sit idly without questioning things.

"Jeremy," came a soft, pained voice in the wreckage. Daria came-to completely, a splitting headache immediately washing over her. There was an ache in her side and something solid beneath her. She soon realized what that something was. _Jeremy._

He wasn't moving. He didn't even seem like he was _breathing._

She pushed a large rack of luggage aside in order to move away from him, sitting up on her knees and clutching her throbbing side. There she sat for a moment — quaking and quivering. Out of fear, from all the pain, in the midst of everything.

When she caught her breath, she scooted closer to Jeremy. His pale face was dotted in cuts, his white hair was messy and matted with blood and she brushed the tresses away from his forehead before murmuring. "Please be alive," she whispered, her other hand gently touching his chest.

She began to cry, not fully understanding or even comprehending what was going on around them. That was the shock, though. The gravity of the situation would hit her later.

She shook Jeremy a bit, a hand cupping his face. Panic was certainly settling in now. "Jeremy," she said. "Wake up. Wake up for me. Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. You saved me. Come back to me."

There was a soft gasp, followed by a groan. If anything, she began to cry harder. Sobs wracked her body as he began to rouse, expression contorting with ache as he woke.

A hand found her waist for something to grasp, his teeth gritting. "I'm... Something's broken... I can feel it."

She stopped him from writhing, wanting to check him as best as she could. It was his arm. His arm and his shoulder. Something was broken and something was dislocated. And there was a piece of glass in his thigh.

The scene was horrible. Gruesome. But they still had each other, and that was more than some others could say.

As they hobbled away, trying to help a few others, Daria tried her best to stay focused. If she didn't, if she stopped for even a moment, she might see _just how many_ peoplehadn't made it through the crash. It was a rather sobering thought.

Little did she know that her sister was frantically calling her cell phone, needing to make sure her sister _wasn't_ on the train that was plastered all over the news at the moment.


	7. Chapter 7

Jeremy awoke to a soft, white light and quiet noise.

_Drip, drip, drip._

He turned his head to find an IV. He was in a hospital bed, the blinds drawn in his room. He couldn't tell what time of day it was. Outside there was snow falling. That much he could make out between the curtains.

There was a voice trickling in from out in the hall. He could just barely make it out. Daria was talking to someone, presumably a doctor.

"When do you think he'll wake up? ... I just need to see him. I need to make sure he's okay. I should be there when he wakes up. He might wake up soon, you know. What if he does?"

Jeremy smiled to himself, more than a bit touched at her concern. Recent events began to return to him, however, erasing the smile that was on the lips. The accident. The _train_ accident. So much had happened.

Eventually she came into the room, finding him awake and somewhat alert. She rushed to his side, sitting down on the bed and setting her purse aside. She was in clean clothes, a few bruises peeking out from the collar of the flower-print blouse she wore.

She couldn't speak for a moment, her lower lip wobbling. It was different for the older man to see. Never once, not in their many long years of friendship, had he seen her this way. He'd seen her cry when her little sister had had a miscarriage in the past, when she'd been hurting for her. And yes, she got emotional on her mother's birthday, from time to time. But that was it. She was a strong woman.

Here she was, now, falling to pieces. It came over her so quickly. Seeing him there, lying in that hospital bed, it was all just too much. That could have been her. It could have been worse. She clasped a hand over her lips, not even bothering to turn away from him.

"Listen to me," he said softly, a hand reaching for her own. His voice was raspy, barely a whisper. He gently grasped her fingers between his. "We've known one another for a long time. I'm here. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. You _are_ okay. You're alive. You survived. You're a survivor, Daria Kowalczyk."

She stopped him, squeezing his fingers and beginning to speak. "No," she said. "You don't understand. It's not me. I'm not worried about me. I'm just... I thought you were dead, Jeremy. I thought I lost you. When everything happened, when I woke up beside you... I didn't think you were breathing."

Somehow, things felt different. Something was off about the tone of her voice. Her expression changed, her eyes fell to their hands. It felt raw. She began to cry again.

"I'm just fine," he said, trying to reassure her. "I'm here, and I'm okay."

A moment passed between them before she spoke again. "You saved me," she said. "Really. I just remember you putting your arms around me. I don't think I've ever had someone do something like that for me. I'm so thankful. I'm grateful to you, Jeremy."

His eyes were scanning her expression, watching a flurry of emotions pass. "I'd do it again," he murmured to her. "In a heartbeat. It was just instinct."

The air between them was growing a little less affable, a little more tepid. Something was happening. The dynamic was changing. But now really wasn't the time for it. It was neither gratifying nor timely.

All at once she drew away, reaching for her purse to have something in her hands. She rummaged about for a pack of tissues, desperately needing one.

"How many people...?"

His question trailed off, his voice falling flat. How did one ask such questions?

"Ten people died," she said rather abruptly. "And a lot more were injured. Apparently it was just an accident. Something about railroad maintenance issues. A statement hasn't been issued yet, but that's what I've heard. It'll be on the news tonight."

They fell silent for a moment before he said, "You said you thought you lost me. I'm a pretty stubborn bastard. I'm not going anywhere." He swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to groan in pain. "You won't lose me, Daria."

She _almost_ looked as if she may have cried again. But she didn't. She kept the tears at bay. Instead of staying silent, he asked, "Have you called Lena? Have you spoken to her?"

She merely nodded, then said, "Yes. I have. I called her yesterday. She's at my house. You've... You've been out for a whole day, Jeremy. It's morning now. They've had you on some strong medications and antibiotics. Your leg was infected from all the glass. Your shoulder was dislocated, too. And your arm was badly broken."

His gaze strayed lower to survey his body, lingering on the cast on his arm. "What about you?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

A ghost of a smile graced her lips. Then she spoke. "I'm alright," she answered him. "Just pretty banged up. A few broken ribs. I need to rest. It hurts to breathe. I would have been worse off if a knight in shining armor didn't try to save me."

They both chuckled at that. Even in the toughest of times, they needed a moment to themselves. A moment between friends. A moment to remember what it felt like to laugh. 


	8. Chapter 8

Days passed. Jeremy was eventually brought home by Daria. Both of his brothers were out of state. And, well — she wasn't working at the moment.

She'd been to his house many times. She knew the route like the back of her hand. She knew the back roads. She knew the way. It was a quiet ride, and they were both lost to their thoughts.

His dog — _a large, friendly collie with a gorgeous coat_ — was waiting at the door to greet them. A neighbor had been feeding him while he was gone, away on their trip to New York. And afterward, of course. After the accident, he hadn't minded keeping up with walking and feeding Melody.

She led him inside, guiding him down the front hall and helping him out of his coat.

"Thank you," he said, nudging a few doors open and hobbling off to turn up the heat on the thermostat.

"You know you don't need to thank me," she said with a soft, gentle laugh. Things felt odd after all that had happened. Things felt different. They were both fragile, emotionally and physically. They needed time to heal from what had happened.

He cast his gaze in her direction as he filled his kettle with warm water, placing it on an electric stove afterward. "I do," he murmured. "Or at least I should. You've taken pretty good care of this old man for the better part of twenty... well, maybe more years. Time goes by too fast these days for me."

She sighed. "Twenty-five years," she corrected him, the very beginnings of a sweet smile tugging at her lips. "And I've been doing your dry-cleaning since day one. You have me to thank for always looking so good." She tucked a blonde strand of hair behind an ear and listened to him.

He laughed at that, placing two mugs — _both of which were painted with tiny snowflakes_ — down on his granite counter. "You're right. Tea?" he asked, a brow arching.

She merely nodded, slipping out of her jacket to hang it up on the back of a kitchen chair. Melody came over, her tail wagging happily behind her. Daria ruffled her ears, scratched her furry head and gave her kisses. "Such a good girl," she murmured.

He smiled, pouring them two mugs of hot, steaming water as the pot began to whistle. He dropped two chamomile bags in, then fixed hers just the way she liked it. Little details like that never failed to surprise her, even after all this time.

She looked pensive for a moment before she drew away from Melody, who trotted over to Jeremy to sit by his feet. "I shouldn't be bothered by this," she started to say, "but Josh never even called to ask if I was alright. He didn't care."

She was _never_ so open about anything. They barely ever discussed their personal lives. Jeremy blinked in surprise for a moment before handing her a mug of steaming tea. He sipped at his own before speaking. "You don't need him bothering you, anyway. It's for the best. He doesn't deserve you. You don't even need him worrying over you. Hell, he shouldn't even be thinking about you, period."

There was something possessive about that. It wasn't so much in his words, but in the way he said them. She found herself breathless for a moment — but she chalked it all up to the sleepless nights and fretting over every little thing. She must have been imagining things.

She was reading too much into everything. It was becoming a bad habit of hers since the crash.

"Maybe we can be okay now," she heard herself say. "Life can go on. We'll be fine. We'll heal up and get back to work soon. I just need something to do. I hate not working."

There was so much to do at the office, so many things to take care of.

"The office can wait," he merely said, his voice gentle and sure, as if he could read her thoughts. "Don't you worry about that."


	9. Chapter 9

"So, how are you?" Lena asked, a brow arching and her gaze resting gently on her older sister. Daria was at a loss for a moment before she sipped at her latte. 

"I'm doing okay," she said, only half lying in her answer.

Lena knew better than to push the matter. She merely sighed, smiling her sister's way. "I just want you to be okay," she said softly. "I worry about you. How are your ribs feeling today?"

Daria took a deep breath, wincing a bit. It all but answered her sister's query, but she spoke, regardless. "Sore," she replied. "Very sore today. I think I might've rolled over in my sleep last night. So, I've been better."

A moment passed between them before Lena tentatively asked, "When are you going back to work? Do you know? I have quite a few things to do this coming week. There's been a change of plans. William and I are going to the Bahamas in a month. We postponed our trip. There's another cruise we chose, instead. I... wanted to be home, for you."

She nodded, a finger playing with the cozy around her warm drink. She wasn't sure, if she were being completely honest.

"Soon, I think," she replied, eyes finding Lena. "I'm sick of sitting home. Alone. I need some human interaction. I need a bit of work. I'll feel better when I get back into the swing of things, I should think."

She sighed before rising from her chair in the café, coffee in hand. "Let's get going," she said. "I'd love to stay but I've got a few errands to run. I have to stop at the bank, too."

It wasn't until they were driving home to Lena's place, later on that day, that her phone began to ring. She was driving, Lena sitting in the passenger seat. No doubt it would have been a tad rude to pull off to the side of the road and answer. It could wait until later.

Lena glanced at it, noticing that the caller ID read: _Jeremy O'Leary._ She chuckled, then said, "Oh, _Mr. Tall, Dark, And Handsome_ is calling. Shall I answer for you?"

Frazzled at the nickname, Daria shook her head. "No, it's okay," she said. "And god, _don't_ call him that. It sounds worse every time you say it."

All Lena could do was laugh at that. "I've never called him that to his face. You're safe. But honestly... How are you two doing? You've been spending a lot more time together. Do you realize that? I know he's your boss and all, and some bad things have happened lately, but you've changed. You both have. Don't you see how things are changing? You left Josh, you were all but rescued by Jeremy. You said so yourself."

Daria huffed, then replied, "No. Things aren't changing. We're just... getting over what happened. We're friends, Lena. Just friends. Really old friends."

Lena arched a brow, then turned away to gaze out of the frosted window. "Who are you trying to convince, honey? Me, or yourself? I don't know if either are working very well right now."

They pulled into the drive at Lena's house, parking and idling. "I think _you're_ seeing things that aren't there," Daria said honestly. "I care about him. He was pretty banged up. His arm is badly broken. God, I've been taking care of the man for the majority of my life. I don't know how to just... stop doing that. I'm worried about him. He's a good boss. He treats me well."

Lena unbuckled her seatbelt, but remained where she was. "He is a good boss," she said after some thought. "Although I'm not sure some of the ladies you work with agree. You've heard them at the New Year's parties we have. He never stands up for them, never handles confrontation well... Things like that."

Daria slipped her sunglasses off, tucking a stray tendril of blonde hair behind an ear. Amber eyes floated over to her sister before she spoke. "I know. But, people expect too much of him. Too much _from_ him. If they just accepted him as he is, they'd feel differently. He is what he is, and he isn't what he isn't. Took me a long time to come to terms with it. But he's still a good man."

She pocketed her keys, unlatching her seatbelt and slipping out of the car. Lena followed her, whispering quietly. "If he starts calling you his little *lapochka, well... You'll realize how right I am. Sorry, honey."

They both laughed, wandering into Lena's house to find William and their two cats on the sofa. They were curled up, her fiancé watching Netflix and having lunch.

"Hey, Will," Daria said, coming over to show the cats some love. They both fussed over her, purring at the scratches and shoulder massages. One was a small ginger, the other a black cat with white patches on their belly. Both were female rescues, but from different litters. 

"Hi, Dasha," William said, setting his half-eaten sandwich aside on its plate. He looked as if he was scrutinizing her for a moment before he smiled, satisfied that she was doing better.

"You look a lot better," he said quietly, as if he was worried it might offend her somehow. Then he leaned in for a tender, brotherly hug, patting her back carefully, careful not to touch her ribs in any way.

"Thanks," was her only response. He was right. And she was thankful.

She spent the afternoon with her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law. It was cozy, comfortable. She rarely had any time to be like this, any down-time. If anything, she was thankful for the time off while she had it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The word "lapochka," in English, means "darling." Its origin is Russian. Lena and Daria are both Polish.


	10. Chapter 10

Time seemed to fly by. Before Daria knew it, she was back at work and her ribs were healing. Time passed, and eventually, she was back into horseback riding with her sister, who had gotten married in the Bahamas, and seemed to find a piece of her old self again. As best as she could, anyway.

Things were still a bit different. Jeremy had trouble recovering from the broken arm, but he soon healed up. It cost him his tennis, though. And six weeks of learning to write with his right hand. Tennis, well, he rather missed that. But there wasn't much he could do about the situation.

And so life went on.

Daria saw a therapist every other Friday, if only to help cope with the accident. But she never spoke much of Jeremy. Only herself. _And those lost._

The merger went through, _Corporate Restructure, LLC_ was beginning to change. Jeremy was more a figurehead these days than anything else. Retirement was inevitable. The company had no use for him anymore, aside from his infinite knowledge and expertise, and his time was running short.

Daria didn't want to work for anyone else. She didn't know _how_ to work for anyone else. She'd been working for the same man since she was in her twenties, fresh out of college and ready to do something with her life. The prospect of having a new boss was terrifying.

But there was more to it than that, wasn't there? _She would miss him._

She was at her desk one afternoon, typing away at her computer and answering a few important emails, when he called her into his office.

"Close the door," he said quietly, not wanting anyone out in the hall to eavesdrop. And so she did, gently, before turning around to face him at his desk. "Yes?"

"I have something I want to talk to you about," Jeremy began. "I've been thinking about this long and hard."

Something in her stomach jumped and jolted. She wasn't sure why she was so afraid of his next words, but she couldn't help herself. She just was.

"I want to make sure you're taken care of when I'm gone," he said, deciding to be rather frank. "And you're no underling, Daria. Or at least you shouldn't in be. If I... gave you a promotion while I still have the power to... at least to my assistant, as opposed to my secretary, your salary would go up dramatically and you'd have a better title. You'd have something more to work with for later on. You'd be safer when things went though, and when I leave. And if I do it now, it won't seem like such a... strategic move, on my part. Or yours."

He paused, rubbing his chin. Then he added, "I've been wanting to do this for a while. But now feels like the right time. I wish I could do more but I haven't got much sway these days. This is all I can do. I'm sorry it isn't more."

She stared at him for a moment, completely at a loss for words. If nothing else, her expression made him smile. He sat back in his chair and scratched his cheek, a pair of light blue eyes resting lazily on her features.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Just... say something."

She blinked slowly before trying to speak. "I don't... I don't really know what to say, Jeremy. You're looking out for me. I can't tell you how much that means to me..."

"Don't you dare thank me," he said, interrupting her and raising a hand. "Just let me do this. Maybe you can pay off that house of yours. You deserve it."

He looked like he wanted to say more but he stopped himself, choosing instead to merely send a warm smile her way. And off she went, back to work and eventually off to the lunchroom to chat with the girls about her big news.

He really _was_ looking out for her. She was beginning to see that.


	11. Chapter 11

Daria was brushing down her horse when a good friend, Kaleigh, came wandering over. She was carrying a heavy saddle, stirrups and all. She set it down in its designated spot, gaze turning to Daria after.

"How are you doing, Dasha?" she asked, smiling softly.

After a moment, Daria set the brush aside. She patted Wrigley's side, then glanced Kayleigh's way. "I've been good. And you?" She reached out for a hug, giving the woman a warm embrace in hello, then drawing away with a wee smile.

"I was away, up in New York for a month or so," Kaleigh explained. "Family issues. My father's been sick. He seems to be getting better now, though. Thankfully."

Daria sent a look her way at that, nodding her head. "That's good," she said. "That's very good. I'm glad to hear he's doing better."

Across town, as the sun was setting, Jeremy was having a dinner with his brothers in one of their favorite restaurants. They'd finally gotten the chance to see one another for the first time in months. Too long, frankly.

Jonathan, his older sibling, was just finishing his rib eye and laughing softly about something Jeremy had said. Steven, his younger brother, was heartily finishing a beer. He never drank much these days, if only because his wife didn't allow alcohol at home, so this was a treat.

They had all moved to America years ago, trying to find their way into the States. The tri-state area seemed like a good enough place to start.

"Oh, aye, you're one to talk," Steven quipped with a brotherly grin in response to something Jeremy had said earlier. The latter merely laughed, setting his wineglass aside.

Jonathan grew quiet for a moment before smoothing out his coat and tie, sitting back and crossing his legs to make himself comfortable. "How has Daria been?" he asked, genuinely curious. Everyone knew his secretary quite well. They'd come to be more like family over the years, and his brothers were fond of her.

"She's alright," he said, not exactly elaborating. He smiled, though, at least.

"Just alright?" Steven asked, suddenly picking up on the change in mood. Something was different about his brother's response. He was never so clipped, never so vague. The man could discuss everything from soup to nuts with the same excitement or enjoyment, nevermind the general air or mood of the room.

"I'm giving her a promotion," he began to elaborate. "She deserves it. She's put up with me for so long. I told her the day before last. Monday I'm going to go through with it. I want her to be in a good position when I retire."

Jonathan chuckled. "You? Retired? Sounds like a fable to me. Every time you mention it... it sounds less real to me. I'm imagining things, aren't I? I've never known you to be so... I'm not sure how to put it. You sound defeated. You're giving up with the company, aren't you?"

Jeremy took a sip of wine before daring to respond. "Maybe I am," he said quietly. "I've put my life into a business, my whole life, and I've gotten nothing in return. CEO means nothing these days. I have no real power anymore. No sway. I'm being booted out."

Steven flared up at that. He looked angry, at least swallowing before beginning to speak. "Then give them a reason to keep you around," he said, blue eyes resting on his brother. "All be damned if you don't at least _try_ to be useful. Fight for something."

Maybe he was right. But Jeremy knew better than to fight the system. Younger, less-experienced workers were better than that. They were easier to train, easier to fool. Easier to start somewhere with.

"Aren't you going to miss Daria?" Steven asked, gently prodding him. _Hedging,_ really. 

Jeremy went wide-eyed for a moment, setting his glass aside and gazing his younger brother's way. "What exactly are you implying? We've been friends for a damn long time. I know I'm going to miss her. But she'll be alright without me around."

Jonathan piped in, asking, "But really, _will she be,_ Jeremy?"

Jeremy knew bait when he heard and saw it. _Hook, line..._ Still, he responded. _And sinker._

"Of course she will be," he told them. "She doesn't need an old man like me around, dragging her down. She can go much further in the company now. She's brilliant. She's more than she gives herself credit for. Her potential astounds me. It always has."

Steven laughed, pointing a finger at his brother and saying, "There it is. Look at you, giving her praise. If I didn't know any better, I would think you were in love with her..."

Jeremy's cheeks grew warm, calling over the waitress with a wave of his hand. "Check, please, lass," he called to her. Then he turned back to his brother, expression rather telling. "I hate to tell you this," he said, "but you're wrong."

"Is he?" Jonathan asked, curious now. "What's stopping you from being with her? _I_ hate to tell _you_ this, but you certainly aren't getting any younger. Tell her. I'm pretty sure she feels the same way about you."

Jeremy groaned. "I haven't had nearly enough wine for this conversation. I do rather wish you'd both drop it. You're... reading too much into things. She doesn't feel that way about me. She never has. And she never will. And I'm content with my life. I like living alone. If you two had your way, I'd be making an utter fool of myself."

 _"Someone_ has to take care of you if anything ever happened to us," Jonathan urged him. "When's the last time you so much as kissed a woman? Hmm?"

Jeremy was pulling his wallet from his coat pocket, intent on paying the check for his brothers. He liked doing things like that. He liked being _useful._

"Too long," he admitted. And that was all he said on the subject. Nothing more. 


	12. Chapter 12

Jeremy had a terrible morning at the office. First it was a meeting with someone from the _Impaired Loan Advisory Services_ , then it was a name partner chewing him out for Daria's promotion.

"You're forgetting your place," Ethan Levitt said, standing to leave Jeremy's office. The latter didn't move from his chair in front of his desk, his expression even and unbothered. "I'm forgetting my place, am I? You're forgetting what _this company_ does," Jeremy shot back.

All was quiet for a moment before the door swung open. Ethan wanted to leave, he wanted to speak with the higher ups and with Jack Donovan — _the main head of their business_ — but he couldn't resist belittling Jeremy first.

"And what is that?" he asked, turning around to face the man at his desk.

"We help people," Jeremy said. "We put companies back on their feet. We take care of our clients. Their interests always come before our own. Especially our personal ones. Lest you forget that, Ethan. I still have some say in this damn company. Not dead yet." He chuckled, adding, "Good employees deserve bonuses. It's a reward. Not that you'd know what that means. You always get what you want, whether you've deserved it or not. Try working hard for once in your life."

Ethan left, walking down the hall rather briskly and stopping for no one. He stepped onto an elevator, cursing to himself, beneath his breath, and stabbing the lobby floor button.

The moment the lift door closed, Daria was popping her head into her boss' office. There he sat, twiddling a pen and doing so rather angrily.

"I hate that fucking man," he said quietly.

Her mouth popped open for a moment. She was going to speak, but decided against it. It was such a rarity to hear a curse fall from that man's lips.

She closed the door, coming into his office and having a seat across from him. It surprised him, but then again, she rather had a knack for that.

Instead of saying much, she merely said, "Good for you."

Jeremy's eyebrow arched, a hand reaching for the cup of tea he had resting beside his laptop and a stack of files. "Why would you say that?"

She gave him an impish grin before responding, "I've never seen you stick up for anything like that before. Least of all for yourself. Or me."

It occurred to him then, as she spoke, just how much he'd missed out on in his long years at _Corporate Restructure._ He wasn't a fighter and he never had been. But maybe things were slowly changing.

"You're worth it. I'm sorry," he suddenly said. He looked astonished with himself for a moment, as did she, and then he cleared his throat. "I should've done more for you from the very beginning. You're loyal and you're a fantastic secretary, and you've always taken good care of me. And of your fellow employees as well."

Her cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink, amber eyes resting on his features as she watched him fumble and stumble over his words.

"Thank you," she heard herself say. "You're doing it now. You've always taken pretty good care of me, too. I mean that, Jeremy. I wouldn't be so fond of you if you hadn't."

She rose from her seat before his desk, giving him a friendly wink and wandering off. He found himself sitting there, fingers wrapped around his tea mug, as he watched her go. 

His gaze fell to her hips, admiring her curves and admiring her skirt. Something in his chest tightened. Something was missing. _She_ was missing. Yes, he'd fight for her for as long as he'd have it in him to do so, age and retirement plans be damned. 


	13. Chapter 13

She was at the stables, riding and taking care of a few of the other horses that weren't ridden quite as often or as well. She loved this time to herself. This quiet, peaceful time. A little piece of her soul healed each and every time she came here.

The accident was behind her. The rest of her life was in front of her.

_She would be okay._

_She was okay._

She slipped up onto a saddle, guiding her mare out onto a dirt path. That was when she heard a voice she wasn't expecting. _Jeremy's._

"Daria? Hey, come back for a second. Please," he called to her.

The urgency in his voice had her trotting his way, hooves on dirt and her sharp breaths the only sounds to be heard. The wind had died down and the sun was shining. It was a beautiful day.

She came over to him, stopping at his side but remaining in the saddle. In his three-piece suit he seemed so out of place, surrounded by barns, stables, and other various farm animals. What had possessed him to come out to the stables on a day like today? She'd been taking vacation days to use them up while she could. He should have been working today.

She patted her horse's side, calming her and gazing down at Jeremy with a look of worry. "What is it?" Her voice was laced with anxiety.

He looked pensive. Upset. Bothered by something. "They let me go," he said, as if that explained every little thing. Her heart fell, her chest seized up. She choked up for a moment before reaching out for his hand on pure instinct. "What?"

A tick or two passed by. His eyes fell to their hands, his voice steady and unfailing. "Donovan came to my office this morning and told me. Just like that. Like it was nothing. As if I hadn't been working for the company for thirty years. Said it was best for the company."

She slipped from the saddle, landing hard on her feet. Her boots kicked up a bit of dust, which she swatted away with a hand. "Jeremy..."

What could one say? Or rather, what _should_ she say? She was at a loss.

She hugged him close, her arms winding around his shoulders and refusing to let go. He welcomed the embrace, although he'd never been much of a hugger. Maybe he'd just never been held by the right woman. This time was the exception.

"I had so many plans," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I wasn't ready to be done. We have clients that I can't just leave hanging. I wasn't done."

If anything, she wrapped her arms just a bit tighter around his torso. Her heart ached. But it was his next words that got her. 

"I'm so bloody worried what they'll do to you now," he murmured to her, a hand coming to rest at her lower back to return the embrace. "I'm no longer with the company. You might be Ethan's new target."

When she finally drew away, her gaze rose to meet his and her hands landed gently on his shoulders. "Don't you worry about me," she told him. "I can take care of myself. That's what I'm good at doing." She may have said that, but god, she was terrified. _What was to come?_


	14. Chapter 14

It was one hell of a week that followed Jeremy's departure from the company. Donovan came to speak with her _directly._

 _He wanted a word with her,_ he'd said.

"I don't care about your past," he said quietly. "But you work for me now. You're _my_ employee. You no longer work for Jeremy, do you understand? You'll do as the board wills, no matter what the clients beg of you. It's either that, or you're gone. Take your pick."

Things were changing. _Drastically._ A company that once prospered and had such good intentions was steadily going downhill. They were turning into something reproachable and disgusting. All she wanted to do was tell _every single one_ of their clients to hightail it out of there and find new restructure firms to assist them before it was too late.

_Her brain ached with all the new rules._

_Her morals were tested._

_She wanted to quit_. That was all she wanted. Every day was hell.

Regrowth and assistance to clients gave way to merely downsizing, large company layoffs, compromise agreements and crippling debts. Bottom line: _insolvency._ Companies went down the drain before they had the chance to shake the hands of those in charge of _Corporate Restructure, LLC._ So much for decency. So much for the desire to help others. Family businesses, old businesses that had survived for generations, it didn't matter. They all collapsed.

"I've never hated my job," Daria admitted to her sister one night after a few glasses of rosé. "But I'm really beginning to now. I need to find something better."

The game had changed overnight, and there was nothing she could do about it. She was helpless to ride out the wave. She couldn't quit, couldn't look for anything better. She was stuck right where she was, and she wished Jeremy was still beside her.

But he wasn't. And they hadn't spoken in almost a month.

Her heart ached to think of him. She was hopelessly in love with him. Things had gone overboard so quickly. In the fallout she'd realized something: _she was in love with her boss._ Ex-boss now, and she couldn't even say the words.

All she could do was pray that things would look up one day. That things would get better.


	15. Chapter 15

He needed her by his side. Completely and wholly. He loved her. It had taken him too long to see it. It had cost him too much, in the end.

And so here he was, waiting at a platform for a train. Another train, one that she would be taking. It arrived at the station around eight in the morning. He, in all fairness, had business in the city to take care of as well. But maybe, just maybe, he'd planned his trip around hers.

Jeremy had been a busy man as of late. He was trying to weasel his way into a rather well-known restructure business, something similar to what he'd done in the past. He had the money, the funds, the knowledge. No doubt they would want his expertise.

Daria sat down in an empty row of soft, cushiony seats after boarding the train. She was uncomfortable. Anyone could see it.

Her hand clutched the armrest for a moment and he knew. He knew she was struggling with this. It was her first train ride since _the accident._

He came over to her without hesitation, sitting down beside her and placing a hand just over her thigh. It skimmed the material of her skirt before gently resting there. "I'm... _Oh._ Excuse me... Jeremy," she stumbled out, obviously startled. "What are you doing here?"

Her gaze fell to the hand on her thigh, reveling in its warmth and enjoying the comfort behind it.

"I knew you had a meeting in the city today," he said softly, turning to gaze in her direction. "You told me about your trip in your email last week. I'm going into the city on business, myself. I'm staying for a week."

She was blushing. _Fiercely._

"I'm only going for a few days," she told him, almost saddened that he drew his hand away. She felt the loss of warmth, the loss of intimacy all too keenly. She missed it immediately.

"What... What are you doing in the city? Something for business, you said?" She was fumbling over her words, the meaning behind his own suddenly catching up with her. Was he trying to get hired by another firm?

"I haven't seen you in over a month now," she added softly, her gaze lingering on his features. He was calm, relaxed. Everything that she wasn't right now. And when the train began to move, she snatched up his hand, out of fear.

"It's been too long," he eventually replied, his heart aching at the mere thought. His other hand covered hers. To each other, these must have seemed like friendly embraces. However, they were anything but. She was gripping his hand for dear life and he understood why.

_Trains._

_Trains weren't safe._

"You're okay," he whispered quietly, leaning in to wind his arm around her. A brotherly hug. A friendly hug. When all he wanted to do was brush his lips over hers...

He set his briefcase aside in order to hold her close, listening to her breaths even out as she slowly relaxed. "I'm sorry," she apologized to him, her voice small, too small to belong to her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said, adamant. They drew away from one another despite any inner protestations, each acting as if nothing had happened.

Her hands wound around her suitcase, his hand placed gently in his lap.

His luggage was resting in the overhead rack, his briefcase between his knees. He was sipping at coffee, his glasses resting at the bridge of his nose. He'd never looked so handsome in her eyes.

His hair was winded, tresses unkempt and shaggier than usual. She had to fight the urge to brush it back for him. His shirt was undone a few buttons, showing off a tanned chest and the tiniest hint of a chain beneath. His sport coat fit him well. His pants were pressed, his shoes shined. He took care in dressing himself each morning. Always spiffy, never under-dressed.

He was oblivious to her wandering gaze, his mind off somewhere in the clouds.

"Your birthday's next week," he suddenly said with a smile. "I haven't forgotten. In fact, I have something for you. But it can wait until then."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, amber gaze flickering his way. "You... You got me something? Jeremy, you know you didn't need to do that."

He turned to her, a rather amused grin finding his lips. "Nothing's changed," he said quietly. "We're friends, aren't we? Just because we aren't working together... Nothing has changed. I promise you that. I wanted to get you something nice."

Her eyes moved to the window. "Okay," she simply said, eyes admiring the autumn-y reds and yellows and oranges on the various trees that lined the railroad tracks. "Thank you, Jeremy."

And there they sat, together, relaxing on the ride into the city. He was glad he'd come, glad that he'd been here for her. They gone through it all together. This was all just a part of the healing process, and he wanted to be the one to help her heal.


	16. Chapter 16

After heading into the city, they went their separate ways with the promise of a dinner spent together at one of their favorite restaurants. Just a little Korean place with dim lighting and excellent food. They both missed one another. That much was obvious.

Jeremy checked into his hotel by the train station before hailing a cab to the office building where he'd be having his interview.

Could it really be called an interview? He was buying into the company and all the arrangements just needed to be signed. Nothing was guaranteed, though. Especially not in such a cutthroat business world.

However, he was successful. He didn't mind being "downgraded" to a senior partner. He bought into the company, was given options for an office. They had another office, one that he would be working in, in Northern Connecticut. Two locations.

He could work from the Connecticut office for four out of five days of the week. On Fridays he would travel to the city on the train. Really, it was an excellent deal. And they wanted him. No, actually, they had unashamedly admitted to _needing_ him.

One thing lingered on his mind, though. What about Daria? She was miserable where she worked. That company was crumbling to pieces. It had been since he'd left.

He called up Andrew Gordon, the man who had sought him out to hire him and owned _Financial Restructure, LLC._ "Jeremy," he said into the receiver, a bit surprised. "How are you doing? Is everything alright?"

Jeremy couldn't help but laugh. The man sounded terrified that he'd gone and changed his mind. "Yes, yes, sorry to worry you," he merely said. "I had a question, though."

There was a crackle on the other end before Andrew asked, "Sure. Ask away."

He decided to just come right out with it. "My secretary at _Corporate Restructure_ was phenomenal. We worked together for almost thirty years. I want her to stick with me. I work best when it's with her. In fact, she became my assistant in the past year. I want her to remain as such. Are those terms negotiable?"

There was a pause, which left Jeremy's heart racing. Revving in his chest. Then Andrew responded. "We have the money. I suppose one more employee couldn't hurt. If she's as good as you say she is. If not, well... We'll see. Is it a package deal, then? The two of you together, you and your PA? It's not unheard of."

Jeremy was soaring with happiness. He almost couldn't contain himself. "We're a package deal," he responded. "And trust me when I tell you, Andrew, that you won't be disappointed."

And that was that. Jeremy certainly had some news for Daria over dinner. If she wanted to join him, that was. She had to make that choice herself. But the option would be there.


	17. Chapter 17

She joined him for dinner. He was already waiting for her, sat with a glass of Korean beer and a faraway look. She couldn't help but wonder how things had gone at his interview.

She came over without hesitation, slipping out of her light jacket and hanging it on a hook.

He was smiling, rising from his seat for a gentle hug. It was sweet, casual. They sat down beside one another and talked about their days. She'd had a few clients to meet with, along with her boss, Jack Donovan. He drove into the city by himself the day before. He had a penthouse somewhere in Brooklyn. So, she'd met him at the respective clients' offices.

He fell silent for a moment, his expression pensive. Jack was so... impersonal. He was a terrible man to work for. He treated his employees like numbers, truthfully. Nothing more than _numbers._

Something came over her then, her fingers fidgeting with a napkin. "Listen, Jeremy... There's something I should tell you," she began, almost choking out the words. "I should've told you a long time ago. After the accident happened." _She loved him._

A waitress came over, apologetically interrupting her. "I'm sorry. Are you both ready to order? What can I get for you? I can come back if you aren't ready yet," she said. Daria knew better. Now wasn't the right time. Maybe it never would be.

She practically deflated.

"We're ready," she said, going ahead and ordering. He did so as well, then the waitress went wandering off to put their orders in. It was silent for a moment before Jeremy asked, "You were saying something?"

His gaze was resting on her and she almost crumbled. She couldn't handle him, at times. He was so gentle and calm, relaxed. The opposite of how she was feeling at the moment.

He was _always_ at ease. With everything in his life. Nothing frightened him, and perhaps it was that bit of his personality that she loved so dearly. He was always so sure of himself. He'd grown to love himself, in a way. He hadn't always been like that, especially when she'd first met him.

"It's nothing," she said. "I can't remember now."

He knew better. But also knew better than to push her.

"I have some good news," he told her, sipping at his beer before setting it aside. "I have myself a new job." She was beaming with happiness, something changing in her expression. She looked as if she immediately felt better.

"That's not all," he said softly, leaning in closer so she could hear. "I asked if you could come with me."

She fell completely silent for a moment, expression faltering and slipping. She was _beyond_ shocked. Had he really done that for her?

"What?" she asked, as if she might have misheard him. Her eyes were wide, cheeks gone pink.

He took a moment to pat her hand, then said quietly, "Would you come to work for me at this new business? Four days a week in Connecticut, one in New York City. We can discuss the particulars at a later date. Finish out the month where you are now. Give them your notice. Then come with me."

He was so sure of himself. So sure that she'd join him. She almost laughed. "How do you know that I'm going to say yes?"

He gave her that signature cocky grin of his, then said, "Because we were worked well together. We made a pretty good team. You gave me hell, I gave you hell. We never killed each other over it. But, Jack Donovan... I bet you wouldn't mind running him over a few times."

She laughed. "Right. And maybe... backing up, just to make sure I've done the job right."

He broke down in laughter at that, his cheeks turning a rather handsome shade of red with happiness. And after the chuckles tapered off, and they grew silent, the gravity of the situation slowly began to sink in for her.

"You got me a job, Jeremy," she said quietly, in awe. "You really did it."

He watched her for a moment. Anyone looking their way would see a man, hopelessly in love, and a woman who felt the same. There was such affection, such care, warmth. _Love._

"I don't want anyone else," he said quietly. "The thought of working with anyone other than you is terrible." And it was true. They'd been working together for so long now. He reached for his beer, if only to have something in his hands as he spoke his next words. _"I want you, Daria. Right beside me."_

Her breath halted for a moment. Shy amber eyes rose to meet his. Did he mean that in the way she _felt_ he did? Or was he only referring to work?

Either way, it didn't really matter. If they were going to be working together, and they couldn't exactly have something going on between them. That just wouldn't do.

"Thank you, Jeremy," she eventually said. Before she had the chance to say anything else, their food was arriving and they were enjoying their meals together. 

_Oh well._


	18. Chapter 18

It was a few nights later, around midnight, when Daria awoke to a horrible pounding in her head. Her heart was thrumming away. Nightmares, again. She was tempted to text her sister, but decided it was best to let the poor woman sleep.

Again, she tried to go back to sleep. She slept for another hour or so before falling right off of the mattress, practically screaming awake. She'd rolled in her sleep, a nightmare once again coming back to find her.

This time, though, she dreamt of losing Jeremy. It was like the train accident all over again, only he didn't wake up this time around, when she had shake him.

It stuck with her, that dream did. So much so that she ended up calling him.

They were both still in New York, both at their hotels. He was sleeping, no doubt. There was a crackle on the phone before he answered. It shocked her.

"... Daria?"

She froze, not exactly knowing what to say. All she could manage was a soft sound whilst clasping a hand over her mouth, trying her best to keep any tears at bay.

"Dasha, are you there? You called me. Honey... Tell me you're okay."

 _Honey_... He called her _honey_. Tears sprang into her eyes, cheeks warming with embarrassment. "I'm right here," she finally said, taking a deep breath, knowing she needed to be brave and _honest._

"Tell me you're alright," Jeremy said, voice laced with exhaustion and thick with emotion. He was worried. Entirely too worried for her liking.

"I'm sorry," she eventually forced from past her lips. "I'm just fine. I had a nightmare, that's all. It was so bad. But I'm alright. I'm okay. I just needed to make sure that you were alright. You are. I know. I should go. Goodnight, Jer. I'm sorry."

She hung up her cell phone before he could beg her to stay. Resigned to worry, he pushed back his warm duvet and silky sheets. After showering and grabbing a few things, he decided to hail a cab to her hotel.

Not twenty minutes later there came a knock at her door, which startled her beyond belief. She was awake. No, she certainly couldn't fall back asleep with all that was going on. With all that she'd done. Not tonight.

She was greeted with quite the sight as she opened the door. Jeremy was there, dressed in a sweater and slacks, overcoat half buttoned. He had a bottle of wine in hand, the fingers of his other resting against the door frame.

"Let me come in," he said gently, blue eyes drifting about her features. There was longing there, on both of their parts. His features were twisted, contorted with worry and nerves. It was obvious. _Plain to see._

Finally stepping aside, she let him enter. He closed the door delicately behind himself, shedding his coat and setting the bottle aside. She sat down at the edge of her mattress, hands fidgeting in her lap. She couldn't quite meet his gaze, though, and he found himself drawn to her.

"Don't do that with me," he told her, voice tender, as he came over to the bed. "Don't push me away. I won't let you." He sat down beside her, arms enveloping her in a loving hug. He half expected her to draw away, to nudge him away, but she did no such thing. She leant into him, her eyes falling shut.

As the moments passed, she relaxed into him and her thoughts drifted off to happier times, better times. They must have sat there for a few long minutes that way before either of them dared to speak.

"I kept having a nightmare," she began, "and every time I'd wake up and doze off again, I'd fall right back into that dream. It wouldn't stop."

His next words were careful, almost delicate in nature. "Was I in your dream?"

She merely nodded, at first, before drawing him to the bed with her. After watching her lie down, he toed off his shoes, shed his coat, and settled in beside her. He sat with his back to the headboard, elevated. _Anything, right now, to make her feel even the slightest bit better._

"I couldn't wake you up," she explained to him, eyes roaming his features and straying to his white hair. "The accident. That moment I woke up, beside you. I shook you awake. I was terrified. And tonight... Tonight I kept dreaming that I couldn't get you to open your eyes. You weren't breathing. You didn't make it. Jeremy..."

His hand trailed higher, a single finger covering her lips. It was gentle, intimate. All it would take was a mere flutter of her lips to kiss his warm skin but she couldn't muster the courage.

"Don't," he said softly. "Don't talk about the dream. It's time to forget about it now. _Just lie here with me._ I'll stay. You need to get some rest."

And so she did. In his arms, she found a restful slumber. Deep and dreamless and so very much needed. Somewhere along the way she realized he wouldn't be doing this for her if they were only meant to be friends.


	19. Chapter 19

The next morning was quite something. She woke to sunlight pouring in through the curtains. Jeremy was lying beneath her, as asleep as could be. He was sleeping comfortably, snoring softly like he usually did. She’d heard him often enough lately. 

A hand found its way to his chest, her fingers lingering. He was leant against the headboard, half sitting up. She wanted to curl further into him but she was afraid to wake him. 

How long had she dreamt of waking in his arms? How often? It felt surreal. 

She moved away, slowly. That was when he began to stir. He was waking up and she could do nothing but freeze. How would he react? What would he say? After all, he was the one who came over in the middle of the night, rescuing her from her horrid nightmares like a modern-day Prince Charming. 

She sat up in bed, a hand smoothing back her wild hair. Untamable is what it was. She needed a haircut badly. One day soon, maybe. 

He groaned a bit as he woke, sore from the position he’d been in. 

“Good morning,” he said gently after noticing that she was already awake. 

Before she could stop herself, she began blurting out the words. “I’m so sorry about last night,” he told him. “I don’t know what came over me.” 

He was running a hand through his wild white hair, all sleepy eyes and a five o’clock shadow. Wordlessly, he reached out for her hand and replied, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Daria. Do you understand that? I came over to your hotel because I was _worried_ about you. Because I _wanted_ to. I needed to know that you were going to be alright. There is nothing to apologize for, and I’ve never meant anything more.” 

She couldn’t say anything at first. She had never been particularly eloquent in the morning, and now was certainly no exception, but his words had brought tears to her eyes. 

If anything, her reaction only prompted him to ask, “How long has this been going on? How long have you had these dreams?” It felt _important_ to ask that. He needed to know. 

She drew away and pushed her body up from the bed, allowing herself a deep, steadying breath. Then she answered, “Since the accident. They come and go. It isn’t every day. My therapist says it’s perfectly normal. But it’s… hard to deal with, Jeremy.” 

_They needed a bit of honesty, didn’t they?_

Quietly, he asked, “Am I always in them?” Again, he just _needed_ to know. 

Her gaze found his for a moment before she bashfully answered, “Yes, you are. Always.” 

Rising from the bed, he came to stand in front of her. He gave her a soft look, sighing beneath his breath. They had been through this _together._ Although he never spoke of it, it had been a horrific, terrible tragedy. He remembered putting his arms around her and drawing her to him in those few horrible moments before the train veered off the tracks. He remembered the pain. He remembered the screams and the cries and electrical explosions afterward. He remembered the sirens blaring in the distance. He remembered all of it. 

Tenderly, his hands rose to cup her face. It was a gentle thing, something delicate, as if he was afraid she might shatter. She was glass, right now. Priceless glass, and oh how he loved her. 

Everything changed in that moment. Maybe it was them, maybe it was the atmosphere, or the need to get the words out. Or perhaps all of it. 

Her hands rose to allow her fingers to wind around his wrists, the need to hold him somehow in return nearly overwhelming her. He was grounding her right now. She needed this lifeline. Softly, she spoke, “I was going to tell you something… When we went out to eat together. Before you told me that you’d gotten me a job. I needed to tell you something, and it’s important.” 

She didn’t know it, might _never_ know it, but his heart was thundering against his rib cage right then. It was the closest they had ever come to finally doing something about this wonderful, heartbreaking thing between them. 

Her phone began to ring and she closed her eyes, not wanting to move away from his arms, his _touch._ She just wanted time to stop for a moment. That was all. But it ignored her, and the blaring ring of her cell phone continued. The shrill sound of it broke the calm silence they’d had only moments before. 

“Fuck,” she softly cursed, gently pulling away to answer. 

That was when she remembered something very, very important. There was a meeting this morning, at half past eight. It was nearly ten o’clock now. _Could this day get any worse?_ She seriously hoped not. 


	20. Chapter 20

Time seemed to fly by. A month passed. She had given her notice and left the company. Jeremy got a new office at the building they moved to. And, because Daria was no longer a mere secretary but an assistant now, she too had an office. It sat right beside his. Maybe it was smaller but it was  _ something.  _ Unbeknownst to her, he’d fought rather hard for it. 

After all, he had some wiggle room. 

They  _ wanted  _ him there, and they were willing to grant  _ just about  _ every wish of his. Within reason, of course. He was good for business. They wanted as much talent as they could have. He had good experience and a lot of expertise and advice to offer them. He brought in good clients for them. They were able to help companies succeed again. 

Things seemed to look up, really. The days passed. The tender moments between Jeremy and Daria only grew. Life changed for everyone. Even her sister began to notice the changes in her.

They hadn’t spoken of that night together, or her dreams, but Jeremy was softer with her now. Not in the typical “she’s made of paper” sort of way, but in a more intimate kind of way. The shared, long looks, brushing hands occasionally, and having lunch together more often than not. She even, on one particular occasion, managed to get him out to the stables to try horseback riding. Not unsurprisingly, he was horrible at it. Eventually, he was even able to return to playing tennis. 

Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work. If they ever took the plunge. No one had to know about them. No one really cared. If he was sleeping with his personal assistant, whose business was it, aside from their own? They were somewhere new now. If they were ever  _ seriously  _ together, would anyone question it? Probably not. 

She wished that she had told him that night how she’d felt. She wished he knew. But, in her heart, she felt that he already did. He knew.  _ A part of him knew. _

As the months passed, and they settled in at the new company, she began to relax. Strangely enough, the dreams went away. Without the stress of her old job, she began to feel better about life, about love, about sleeping and the accident. The past was in the past now. It was time to move on. 

_ It was time to let it all go.  _


	21. Chapter 21

He was sat there beside her. Their close friends were chatting over the remnants of a bottle of light red wine. There was laughter, good conversation. They’d invited them over for dinner. Well, Daria had invited everyone over her house. But his eyes were on her. Jeremy couldn’t help himself. 

Things had changed so drastically over the past months. Ever since the accident. He’d found himself in the unique position of falling for his secretary, a woman he’d worked with for almost thirty years. She returned those feelings. He felt it in his heart. 

Why now? He’d never seen her this way. How had he never noticed the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she laughed? Or the way she played with the tablecloth, her legs crossed, while she talked about something she was passionate about? The way her tattoo peeked out from the hem of her skirt? Or the smell of her perfume? 

Reaching for a half-empty bottle of wine, he leant in closer to her and murmured, “Would you like some more?” His hand brushed her wrist, casually ensnaring her attention. 

It caught her off-guard. She wasn’t prepared for it. The closeness, the sensation of his warm breath on her neck. Her lashes fluttered, gaze landing briefly on her sister. She turned, looking up at him and nodding her head. “Yes, please,” she said, her voice sounding so soft and foreign to her.

He filled her glass, then his own, and set the bottle aside. “There you go,” he told her, sitting back in his seat to cross his legs and reach for his own glass. She watched him, subtly, the way his fingers wrapped around the stem of his bordeaux glass and his lips found the rim.

He looked so good in the jeans and button down he had on. She couldn’t help but admire him for a moment. The very hint of a pair of dark socks peeked out from his jeans, with tennis rackets in the pattern. So very much like him. His dress shoes were polished, a casual pair of wingtips on his feet.  _ Everything  _ about him was phenomenal.

There was nothing sexier than a man who dressed well, and enjoyed it. 

What was this game they were playing? Why were they doing this to themselves? They worked together. She was his  _ secretary.  _ His  _ assistant.  _ It would never work out. And yet... 

She tore her gaze from Jeremy, looking away and clearing her throat softly. Embarrassingly enough, her sister was watching her. It was already too late for excuses by the time she’d noticed. Lena waggled a brow, trying to be impish about their looks between one another.

Daria’s cheeks flushed a dark rosy color, a finger rubbing her ear gently. “Stop it,” she whispered to her, trying her best to sound  _ serious  _ but coming off as teasing. 

“What did I do?” Lena asked innocently. Daria certainly shot her a look for that. And she didn’t bother saying anything else. 

She was certainly in trouble now, especially tonight. 


	22. Chapter 22

After everyone left, Jeremy helped clean up. Lena was the last one to go, bidding her sister and Mr. O’Leary a very good night and goodbye. He lingered in the kitchen after, putting the leftovers away in her refrigerator and corking the wine, trying to be as helpful as he could.

She joined him shortly after. “Sorry,” she said, “My sister wanted to show me something.” She came over, taking a bottle of wine from him and placing it in the refrigerator. 

“Daria...”

His tone of voice roused her attention. She turned, asking, “Hm? What’s wrong?” 

He was there, standing behind her. A gentle hand closed the fridge door before he dared to step closer, fingers brushing along her cheek and caressing her skin. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Jeremy...”

But he didn’t want to stop, and she wasn’t drawing away. If anything, she was leaning into his touch. A thumb trailed lower, stroking along her bottom lip and her chin after. 

“You don’t really want me to stop, do you?” His voice was low, confident. He’d never been so sure of something in his entire life. This woman wanted him just as much as he craved her. They loved one another. 

Her body betrayed her. Her lashes fluttered, cheeks growing warm. It was treacherous, what he was doing. And in all their long years as friends, he’d never crossed that line. But he was now.

She gave in in that moment, slipping closer to him and running a gentle, tentative hand along the crisp shirt he had on. “No, I really don’t,” she whispered to him. “So why don’t you kiss me, Jeremy? Please.” 

_It was about time._

He kissed her then. Softly, slowly. There was a muted desire behind it, a passion that could be kindled into something more than mere embers. And she reveled in it. The way his lips caressed hers, the way his hands cupped her cheeks as if she were made of glass. She’d never been kissed that way before. With the utmost passion and a careless abandon. 

Her nerve-endings were aflame. Something had awakened inside of her. Here she was, kissing a man she’d known since she was in her twenties. A man she’d _never_ thought about romantically until the accident. This man was sixty-three and spry for all his years. Wise beyond them. Patient. _Experienced._ Never did she expect something with him to be _this way._

And oh he was kissing her right. He knew just what she needed, just what would make her melt. He knew the right way to hold her and the right way to press his body to hers.

It was altogether unexpected, and welcome. 

His hands dared to stray from her face, landing on her shoulders and caressing them as they kissed. The simple intimacy in it left her shivering, her arms winding around his neck and playing with his wavy, curly hair. 

“Touch me,” she whispered, her lips just barely brushing his as she drew back. Her eyes fluttered closed again, breaths ragged and harsh. _“Please.”_

Tentative hands traveled lower, falling to her waist. Her lips found his for a long, slow kiss. His fingertips, tender and curious, trailed beneath the material of her silken blouse, exploring her lower back and grazing higher. They brushed her bra’s clasp, the lace soft beneath his callused hands. 

It made him smile. How very telling. The fabric, in and of itself, said a lot about her personality. Yet again he managed to surprise her. But with words, this time. “I should have done something about this years ago,” he whispered. 

Was he implying that he’d been in love with her for the better part of almost three decades? Was he saying that he should have made love to her years ago, that no one else was good enough for _his_ Daria?

She gasped softly, her fingers impatiently digging into his shoulders. “Show me,” she said softly. “Show me how it can be. I've been aching for you since the accident. It’s about time we did something about this.”

She needed this. She needed romance and pleasure and passion. She craved it. And he was giving it to her. She’d never really had this, any of this, with Josh. Or any of her other exes, for that matter. It was all such a chore.

But not with Jeremy. Not right now, it wasn’t.

Her body was on fire and she needed some relief. It was incredible, the feelings he roused inside of her. The way he made her feel.

Her hands fell from his shoulders, slowly beginning to work open each of the buttons on her blouse. All while holding his gaze. He seemed so satisfied, so excited.

“What were you going to tell me that night?” he asked. Her lashes fluttered, a bit confused, so he continued. “Or the morning after I’d stayed over in your hotel room? You were going to tell me something and you never had the chance. You said it was important.”

There was something so tender about him in that moment. Something patient, something loving and sexy. He needed her, too. He needed, for once, to feel alive and yearned for. Desired. Who knew how long it had been for him. Just as she needed to feel coveted and satisfied for a night. She needed a man with experience to love her right. 

“I think you know what I was going to say,” she murmured softly in reply. “I think you’ve known for a while now. We wouldn’t be here, in each other’s arms, if you didn’t.”

His hands brushed the fabric of her blouse aside. She could have fallen into his hands, strong hands, that wound around her and drew her nearer to him. His palm pressed to her breast and she was gone. She knew it. She’d steadily been falling for this man and now there was no turning back. She knew that much.

He kissed her again, teeth gently nibbling at her lower lip. It surprised her, causing her to inhale sharply. It was all she could do to keep a moan in.

They stumbled down the long hall together, hands grasping and groping and exploring. Clothing disappeared on the way, leaving a trail on the wood floor to her bedroom. It all seemed to happen in slow motion.

She was vaguely aware of her back pressing into a cool mattress, her body bare beneath his. She felt his hips press to hers, gasping at everything she felt. And when their bodies joined, she clung to him and urged him on. She rolled her hips beneath his. He whispered sweet nothings and kissed her breathless. They took their time with one another until they could bear it no longer. They took from one another. They gave to each other. They held nothing back.

She’d never been loved so thoroughly. So wholly.

It was Jeremy who so willingly and happily gave that to her. Because he loved her. She didn’t need to hear the words to know it was true. She felt them all throughout the night. In her heart, she knew. 

They fell asleep in one another’s arms, exhausted and comfortable. As far as she was concerned, she’d never felt so complete. So _whole_ before.


	23. Chapter 23

When she woke, she found there was something — _or rather,_ _someone_ — lying beneath her. It was Jeremy. He wasn’t snoring, per se, but he was breathing deeply enough to tell her that he was still fast asleep. She was curled into his side, her cheek resting on his shoulder. Everything felt serene. He was on his back, head turned in her direction. 

Careful fingertips reached up to brush a few wispy white tendrils of hair from his forehead, brushing them away from his face. That seemed to rouse him, and she watched as he blinked sleepily and hummed softly. As he woke more fully, he finally noticed her there beside him. Immediately, a wee smile found his lips. 

“Good morning,” he murmured groggily. 

She shifted to trail her fingers down his neck and chest, replying, “I think it really is a good morning, if I may say so myself. Even if I am a bit hungover, which is something I haven’t felt in a long time.” 

He laughed, a hand brushing along her bare back and making its way to her shoulders. “I’m sore in places I haven’t been sore in for a very, very long time,” he confessed. “I’m not even sure I’ll be able to walk properly today.”

She pressed a soft, tender kiss to his chest, right beside his heart, before saying, “I’m not really sorry about that, but I suppose I should probably be. Just for your sake.”

He rolled over onto his side, facing her now. “I’m not sorry about it, either.” His lips brushed hers after speaking for a sweet, good morning kiss, the kind that lovers often shared the morning after. It was tender and fond.  _ Loving.  _

Her heart did flips in her chest to feel his lips against hers and her eyes fell shut, tender fingers brushing his cheek as they drew away. As naturally as ever, her head came to rest just beneath his chin. Her lips brushed his warm shoulder for another kiss.

Jeremy was the first to speak. “I wasn’t sure we’d ever get here,” he all but whispered. His voice was still hoarse from sleep, laced with emotion and want. “Although, I think we came pretty close the night I went to your hotel room.”

She huffed softly, as if lost in thought, and replied, “I can’t believe you did that. I still can’t. I suppose I just… needed to make sure it was all just a dream, that you were alright and alive and safe. I hadn’t thought about it, when I reached for the phone and called you. I just needed to know you were okay. I wasn’t expecting you to come over, or to  _ stay.” _

It felt as if there was a heavy emotion in the room just then. Daria’s kiss, another placed on his shoulder, was enough to rouse him from the dark thoughts he was currently having. “You’re alright,” he simply said. “And so am I. We’re survivors, you and I. We’re alright now.” 

They eventually rose from bed, wandering down to the kitchen for breakfast. As the coffee brewed, Jeremy retrieved the newspaper from outside and announced he was going to have a hot shower. 

While he was gone, Daria texted her sister, Lena. The conversation that transpired was  _ quite something.  _

**_So we have to talk. DK_ **

**_Why? What’s wrong? LK_ **

**_A lot went on last night. It finally happened. DK_ **

**_You mean you slept with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome? LK_ **

**_… DK_ **

**_Yeah, I did. DK_ **

**_And was it good? Did you hear angels singing in the background? About damn time, if you ask me, Dasha. LK_ **

**_It was incredible. Life changing. That sounds so stupid and cliché and I don’t even care. DK_ **

**_He’s a keeper then. Glad you finally realized that. I love you. Call me later so we can gossip. LK_ **

**_I will. Love you too. Tell William I said hi. DK_ **

Nearly twenty minutes later, after toast and coffee, Jeremy announced, “I should probably head home soon. Melody will be wanting her breakfast and wondering where I am. I hadn’t planned on staying over.  _ Obviously.”  _

Daria only smiled. “Whatever you need to do,” she replied, coffee cup raised to her lips. 

He sat back, comfortable and full from breakfast. He placed the newspaper aside and asked, “What are we going to do now? Have you thought about it? Because I’m… a bit at a loss.” 

Daria’s eyebrows rose, a somewhat playful expression gracing her features. “Well, Jeremy,” she began, “I’d very much like us to be together now, properly, and be happy. But I’m a bit worried about what everyone you work with now will say. About this. About  _ us.”  _

He had the grace to flush a light pink, at least. “More scandalous things have happened, you know. And we’ve known each other for so long. Would it really be such a problem, you feel?” 

She placed her chin on a hand, watching him squirm a bit. He looked — well, if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he looked nervous. 

“I’m more worried about my brothers,” he said with a soft chuckle. “They’re never going to let me live this down. You know, they’ve been talking about  _ us  _ for a long time now. Teasing me. Telling me to do something about us. Anything and everything you can probably imagine. They adore you.” 

She only chuckled, sipping at her coffee. “Well,” she replied, her bare foot brushing his shin beneath the table, “I’m just glad you finally listened. It’ll be worth the endless teasing, don’t you think? I think we’re worth all of it. And whatever happens at work… happens. I’m through caring. There’s only one thing I care about anymore… It’s you.”

He stood up, empty coffee mug in hand, and came over to press a kiss to her lips. He lingered there and his thumb tenderly caressed her jaw for a moment. “You’re right,” he murmured against her lips. 

_ She was the one constant for him.  _

“Will you call me later?” she asked. “You should probably be getting home. I bet Melody misses you.” 

He nodded his head as he placed his mug in the dishwasher to clean up. “I’ll call you,” he told her, feeling infinitely lighter now that they had talked a bit. Everything at work would be alright. They would figure it out together. 

_ It didn’t matter, as long as they could face it all together.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love these two so much. They have all my heart.


End file.
